


Checkers, Not Chess

by xaritomene



Category: All American Rejects, Bandom
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-03
Updated: 2010-01-03
Packaged: 2017-10-05 18:14:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xaritomene/pseuds/xaritomene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone knows that Tyson depends on touch; he can't help it. So when he stops touching Nick at all? Bad sign.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Checkers, Not Chess

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bandomrarepair](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=bandomrarepair).



> Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with any of the people mentioned here, and none of the events are true. If you've got here by googling yourself or your famous friends, the back-button is your friend.
> 
> (Title from a quote by Tyson: "It never gets too complicated with us. It's checkers, not chess.")

Tyson isn't built for cuddling – too tall and skinny, all limbs – but Nick _is_, which is probably where Tyson got his love for them from. True, any hug with Tyson has a tendency to turn into more of a (bony) sandwich than a hug, but that doesn't mean Tyson isn't given to suddenly leaping on someone and effectively smothering them with a hug.

The band is mostly used to this.

It's not that they don't appreciate the gesture, it's just that they'd kind of prefer it to be performed less regularly. Still, it's pretty much just Ty. Changing it would require them to change _Tyson_, and that would never happen, even if they wanted it to. Which they don't. (Not normally, anyway.)

It does tend to throw strangers, though, people who maybe don't know Tyson all that well, and who are more than a little terrified by his uncanny ability to appear out of nowhere and all-but grope them. He actually means it as a friendly, affectionate kind of thing, but it's like he hasn't quite got the hang of it, and overplays his hand a little too much. Also, it does take a special kind of person to respond well to a bony, six-five almost-stranger collapsing on top of them and squeezing them; there are a limited number of people who respond well to that kind of thing.

Like now, for instance. Nick is watching Tyson hug one of the venue staff, attacking him with enthusiasm and appearing not to notice the enormous glitter-print he leaves behind when he detaches himself to go off in search of a shower. The guy looks kind of dazed by the whole thing, which is totally normal; Tyson's gone before he can figure out how he should be responding to this. It's funny, in a way.

Nick isn't smiling, and he doesn't know why.

"He'll get over it." Chris says, plumping himself down next to him. His eyes are bright, and Nick knows he's had a good few beers, but hell, by now most of them have. Just, Chris wouldn't have said anything like that without a couple of beers. Chris is more the live-and-let- snark kind of guy. It's possible that Nick's had maybe one too many himself, which might account for his decision to try and play the 'ignorance' card, even though no one can remember the last time Nick was ignorant about something to do with Tyson.

"Get over what?" He tries anyway.

Chris rolls his eyes at him. "Whatever funk he's in right now. He always does."

"Who?" Chris just _looks_ at him, and yeah, beer or not, Nick really should have known better than to try and play that angle. "Sorry." He mumbles, and picks at the label on his bottle.

"Don't worry." Chris says expansively, and claps him on the shoulder. "Tyson'll never keep up any kind of touch-aversion thing." He stands up and wanders off, hailing one of their techs with something about a game of some kind, and Nick's left on the sofa wondering – yeah, actually, when the hell _was_ the last time Tyson touched him?

He'd thought it was just the hugging thing, but thinking back over the last few days – at least as far back as his alcohol-fogged mind will let him go- he can't remember the last time Tyson actually even touched him apart from during a show. That's weird. There's been the normal, everyday contact of living in a small, cramped environment, but Tyson is nothing if not incredibly tactile, so Nick, like everyone else, had thought it'd be a cold day in hell when Tyson _didn't_ make with the bad-touch, especially on Nick himself.

And yet... the last two weeks have involved a serious lack of touch on Tyson's part. Just towards Nick, because it's evident that everyone else is getting more than their fair share of Tyson's over-exuberant affections. That's as clear a signpost as possible of - _something_. Nick's too drunk and too tired to try working out what the hell Tyson's problem is. They've been on the road for too long at this point, and Nick's tired as hell. If Tyson's got a problem, he's going to have to deal with it on his own time.

As always, he's pretty much instantly aware when Tyson reappears in the room, and not just because Tyson has a way of making a stir whether or not he means to. (Most of the time, though, he definitely means to.) He's freshly showered now but no less dishevelled, and he appears to have chosen his outfit on much the same lines as a six year old girl playing dress-up: glitter and eye-watering colours are too strongly in evidence, even after the shower and the change out of show-clothes. Nick's mouth tightens as Tyson drapes himself extravagantly over Mike, pressing a loud kiss to the corner of the guy's mouth. This is standard behaviour, admittedly, and Mike just grins and shoves him off, pointing him back towards the table with drinks, and Tyson grins back, open and happy because there's no one here he has to play for but them, and he plays a different person for them than he does for everyone.

In making his way over to the drinks' table, Tyson manages to touch – or rather, grope – a ridiculous number of people. The party's definitely dying down now, it's god-knows-what o'clock, and Tyson's probably had more than enough. If Nick's buzzed, Tyson definitely is, but Nick's not Tyson's keeper, so he's not about to go over there and tell his friend he can't drink. He'll settle for a disapproving eyebrow when Tyson looks over at him, but as usual Ty just responds to that with a raised eyebrow and a grin.

Nick shrugs back at him, returning to his own beer and smiling round it when Tyson sits down next to him. The distance between them is pointed given that Tyson spent most of his evening all but sat in Mike's lap, but Nick's too confused by his own thoughts on that to want to call attention to it.

"Good show tonight." Tyson grins, and Nick raises his beer bottle.

"Drink to that." He does.

For a couple of moments they sit in silence, watching Chris drain the rest of his beer and laugh at whatever Shabba had just said, and Toad demonstrate something arcane with his drink for a roadie.

The words slip out before Nick can think to stop them. "Why've you stopped touching me?"

Tyson stops for a moment, not in an incriminating way, but it's incriminating enough. Then he leers. The pause is enough to tell Nick that Tyson is hiding _something_, at least. "Didn't know you wanted me to touch you, Nicky."

Nick's drunk, but he's normally pretty quiet. But fuck, he really _is_ drunk, they'd played a _really_ good show, and he's feeling kind of reckless. "I've never said I didn't."

Tyson frowns. "Huh?"

"Don't like that you stopped like that." Nick shrugs, and because he's being honest with himself, he adds: "And, y'know. It was kinda nice. Got used to it, I guess."

There's something ugly on Tyson's face, but for once Nick doesn't try and analyse what. He does that all the time, and it's someone else's turn tonight. "You got used to it, huh?"

Nick doesn't get what the problem is. Yeah, he got used to it; it was kind of nice. They've been through this. "Yeah." He grins up at Tyson, leaning way back on the sofa whilst Tyson sits bolt upright. "Y'talk so much shit, Ty, I figured it was just your way of communicating the real stuff."

Tyson looks at him for a long moment, then shrugs. "Yeah, I guess so."

"So..." Nick doesn't prod, but he draws the word out, hoping that Tyson'll pick up on his question before he has to ask it. "You ignoring me, Ty?"

Tyson laughs. It's not a happy sound. "When've I ever managed to do that?" he asks, and yeah, that's true, but on the other hand, Nick wouldn't have thought that Tyson could not touch him for weeks, and he's managing that one. He says as much, and Tyson's face shuts down for a second. "'m not ignoring you, Nicky." He says firmly, and takes a swig of his beer.

"You're not?" Nick's drunk enough to push the issue.

"_No_." Tyson's attempts at intimidation have never really phased Nick.

"So, why?"

"Nick, I'm not talking about this." Tyson says, and goes to stand up, but Nick flails out with one hand and grabs the back of Tyson's horribly coloured button-down.

"Now or never, Ty."

"I pick never."

"Oh, right. Shoulda told you I was making this call."

"Who says it's your call to make?" Tyson asks, but he's kind of smiling now.

"Twelve years of friendship says it's my call." Nick tells him, and pulls him back down. "What the hell's up with you?"

"Twelve years of friendship say it's a bad idea to talk about this." All traces of the smile have disappeared, and Tyson's voice is very quiet.

Nick's hand's come to rest on Tyson's leg, and he can feel the bones through the denim of Tyson's equally lurid jeans. "At this point, d'you think there's anything I can't handle with you, Ty?"

Tyson grins, but it's not that much happier than his earlier laugh was. "Yeah, guess not." A glance sideways and he meets Nick's eyes. "This is just a bit – much – is all." He says and Nick frowns.

"But it's not too much for you to drape yourself over strangers and grope Mike?" He asks.

"Yeah." Tyson says. "It's – just you, Nicky."

"What?" There're dots here, and Nick's just not connecting them. Tyson's eyes are fixed on him, and it's kind of fascinating; Tyson's always kind of fascinating.

And _that's_ when the penny drops. The dots connect and it turns out that they're actually more like lightbulbs, a great big flashing sign, all pointing to one thing. "Oh, _fuck_." He breathes, and Tyson's mouth tightens.

"Yeah, exactly." He goes to stand, but Nick keeps him in place by pressing down on his leg. For a second, they both stare at his hand on Tyson's leg, and what was an innocent, if drunken, touch instantly becomes something else entirely. "Yeah, exactly." Tyson repeats, quieter.

"Ty, you – it's-"

"Yeah, I know." Tyson nods, tired, and Nick's never been able to hurt Tyson.

"We can work something-"

"Shut up." Tyson says, but it's not harsh or anything. Just kind of tired and resigned. "I'm not doing this with you, Nicky."

"Even though you want to?"

"Because you _don't_ want to. I'm a selfish fucker, but I'm not _that_ bad."

"I dunno..." Nick thinks it over for a second. "I'd need to think about it for a bit, but I reckon we could work something out." His brain registers that he's talking like an idiot before his mouth does, which is probably why he keeps talking. "Y'know, get some sort of arrangement going."

"Some sort of- Nicky, _no_." Tyson actually does stand this time, but he stays where he is, raking on hand through wet hair and ending up with his hand covered in glitter. He doesn't notice before he wipes his palm on his jean, but it's not like the added glitter is going to take anything away from his bright orange pants. "This isn't a bargain sale, we're not-"

"Siddown, Ty, you're giving me a crick in my neck." Nick says lazily, and watches as Tyson realises that he's kind of looming over Nick. "I was talking shit, you know how I get. I just never thought of it, OK? It's not something I considered before." He was about to say 'it's not something you do consider', but Tyson evidently has, so it's kind of bad taste. "I just need to get used to it."

"So you're postponing the freak-out?" Tyson asks warily. His lips are kind of awesome, Nick notices, but then, he is a bit drunk.

"Nah, I'm postponing kissing you." He says. "Remind me why I'm doing that?"

And Tyson laughs, and it's that easy. Nick is a bit drunk, no denying that, but Tyson's a bit fascinating, always has been, and it's like Nick needed the signpost with the flashing lights to get it through to him. Twelve years of intense friendship, and this isn't exactly love at first sight, but it tastes better than that. Nick's had love at first sight and it mostly spells out 'one night stand'. This is – better. Much better. Nick doesn't even have words for how much better this is, but maybe Tyson'll write a song about it at some point.

Tyson's the one with the words, after all. Nick's just the one who goes round making sure they make sense.

Which is kind of a perfect partnership, and it's entirely possible that the pair of them are just a little bit slow on the uptake.

Tyson's saying something, spinning some boast about genius and beauty, and Nick shuts him up by sliding his hand further up Tyson's leg thoughtfully. "Y'know, Ty." He says it quietly. "I think I missed something."

"Huh?"

"The elephant in the room."

"Nicky, wh-?"

Nick shuts him up by kissing him, experimental. Tyson's too shocked to do anything, and Nick frowns at him when he pulls back. "That was one of the worst kisses I've ever had."

"Rubbish, I remember you telling me about Laura Andrews in tenth grade." Tyson says absently. "You taste like beer."

"Oh, I see someone's got his genius shoes on again." Nick laughs, but Tyson doesn't.

"No, I mean you taste like beer, you're _drunk_, and I'm not that guy!"

"You are totally that guy." Nick says, knowing it's true.

"Well, not with you." Tyson amends, and Nick's flattered in a bizarre way.

"Yeah, well, weird notions of chivalry aside, you wanna try that again? I promise to remember your name in the morning." Nick grins and Tyson actually does grin back, because, yeah, that's pretty funny. The idea of Nick forgetting Tyson's name is as impossible as Tyson forgetting Nick's. They're written all over each other.

"Sure. C'n I call do-over on that last kiss?"

Tyson's hand comes up to Nick's cheek, tilting his head just slightly, and he kisses like he knows what he's doing – which he does, this is no one's first kiss here – and somewhere in the background, someone's cheering. It sounds like Chris, so Nick flips him off, and concentrates a little harder on kissing Tyson. Kissing Tyson is awesome. They really should have done this before.

When Tyson pulls back, he's grinning like an idiot, and Nick grins back, soppy.

"Right, so, does this mean I can make with the bad-touch in public now?" Tyson asks innocently, and Nick elbows him in the ribs as Tyson drapes himself over him.

"Shut up." He says comfortably.

It really is that easy between them.

**


End file.
